


The Jack O'Neill Play Book--Plan C--Revised

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-27
Updated: 2006-08-27
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack wants to take Daniel to a baseball game. Daniel wants to go camping. Mayhem ensues.





	The Jack O'Neill Play Book--Plan C--Revised

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: This piece of fluff was inspired by the "A Camping We Will Go" challenge on the Ancient Obsessions website but by the time it was done, it didn't fit the criteria. So a tip of the hat and a thanks for getting this started.  
  
It's set in season one.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!  


* * *

Jack stood at the front door waiting for Daniel to answer. Nothing. He shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet impatiently. He adjusted his baseball cap, the one worn specifically for this occasion, and waited. A minute later he knocked again, a little harder this time, thinking that maybe Daniel was in the shower, or downstairs, or somewhere, and hadn’t heard the door. Still no answer. A little puzzled now, Jack walked down the steps to the garage. Putting his face up to the window, he peered inside to see Daniel’s car sitting in its usual spot. So, Daniel was home. He was supposed to be home. He and Jack were supposed to be going to a baseball game, and not just any baseball game, a Chicago Cubs—Colorado Rockies game. The hometown Cubs against his now hometown team, the Rockies. 

He patted the tickets in his pocket looking forward to a relaxing evening at the ballpark. Getting Daniel to relax at any time was a challenge because Daniel didn’t do down time like normal people. He thought that down time meant you didn’t have to get any sleep--not even the customary three or four hours--because there was no mission the next day, so you could stay up all night working on some translation, or drooling over some artifact, or whatever. Jack did his best to make sure that didn’t happen but it wasn’t easy. Telling Daniel to go home never worked. He’d tell Daniel to go home and Daniel would still be in exactly the same spot the next morning. Which lead Jack to wonder if Daniel ever did any of the normal things other people did like eat and go to the bathroom. Anyway, Jack finally did the only thing he could do. He physically dragged Daniel, kicking and screaming, from the mountain. Well, kicking and screaming was a slight exaggeration. He’d simply told General Hammond, who told Dr. Frasier, who told Daniel to go home. Daniel left. He wasn’t exactly kicking and screaming but he certainly wasn’t a happy camper.

It took Jack a little longer to figure out that this plan was not always entirely successful either. At first, he’d patted himself on the back on a job well done until the day he’d stopped by on a day off to take Daniel to lunch and found him red-eyed from lack of sleep sitting at his kitchen table, surrounded by books and papers, working on some damn translation. This lead to Plan C. Telling Daniel to leave the mountain (Plan A) never worked because he just ignored Jack and stayed anyway. Jack was getting used to being ignored, at least by Daniel, but Jack was not used to failing in his mission. In hindsight Jack realized that Plan A didn’t have a change because, well, when did Plan A ever have a chance?

Forcing Daniel to leave the mountain (Plan B) never worked because Daniel just brought the work home with him. Jack wasn’t quite sure how he the work made it home--he was still working on that part, although he suspected it had something to do with the damn computer in the corner--but the fact of the matter was, Daniel had his work at home. As long as there was a large flat surface and an available supply of coffee, Daniel was happy--tired, overworked, and stressed, but happy--which made Jack very unhappy--which brought Jack to Plan C. 

Jack realized early on in the formulation of Plan C that getting Daniel out of the mountain wasn’t enough. Daniel needed a distraction, something to take his mind off his work and provide him with a genuine opportunity to relax. What could be better for relaxation than going to a sporting event like millions of other people did every day. After said sporting event, they’d head back to Jack’s place for food, they’d discuss their team’s chances for the season, and Jack would tuck a tired, relaxed Daniel into the bed in the spare bedroom. Plan C. Jack philosophically realized that Plan A never stood a chance and Plan B was a fifty-fifty proposition at best, but Plan C was a sure thing because in Jack’s world Plan C always worked.

Putting Plan C into affect, Jack dragged Daniel to hockey and football games, both of which Daniel seemed to tolerate, neither of which he seemed to enjoy. But Daniel being Daniel never said anything, and Jack took comfort in the fact that Daniel at least seemed to enjoy his company and didn’t have his nose stuck in a book. The second half of the plan usually went well. He’d feed Daniel and then get him to stay the night. Jack felt good about the fact that Daniel was fed and rested but he couldn’t help but feel guilty that Daniel didn’t seem to be enjoying himself at any of the games.

Until they went to their first baseball game. Then Jack got the surprise of his life. The first thing Daniel did was to buy himself a Colorado Rockies cap and T-shirt which he’d worn faithfully to every game since. Jack, of course, would never wear anything but his Cubs cap and shirt. 

Jack enjoyed teaching Daniel the finer points of the great American game, especially since Daniel seemed receptive, although he remained, to Jack’s dismay, a stalwart Rockies fan. At the games, Daniel would stand and cheer if the Rockies got a hit, groan if they missed an easy pop fly, and argue about the injustice of an error charged to a player Daniel liked. Even at a game, Jack thought, Daniel was looking out for the little guy. He taught Daniel to keep a score card (the mark of a true baseball fan) all of which Daniel kept in his desk along with the ticket stub from the game. Jack was a little surprised at how quickly Daniel had learned how to score the game but it was fun to watch Daniel mark the card with the same meticulous care he took cataloguing his artifacts. Never, to Jack’s delight, had a 6-4-3 double play looked so good on paper.

All of which lead to today which was supposed to be the best damn execution of Plan C yet--Jack’s favorite team against Daniel’s favorite team. He was really looking forward to tonight’s game. However, Jack couldn’t take Daniel to the game unless he could find him. Looking at the front door one more time, he tried to decide if he should use his key and go in when he heard a steady thumping sound coming from the backyard. Figuring that Daniel was back there finishing up some home improvement project, Jack made his way around the house to tell Daniel to grab his coat and get into the truck before they were late for the national athem. 

Daniel was in the backyard all right. And he was the one doing the pounding. He was standing in a ratty old pair of shorts and a beat up old T-shirt with a mallet in his hand pounding in the stakes for a small tent. 

“Daniel? Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, hi Jack,” Daniel said glancing up briefly before pounding the last stake into the ground and then moving to the other side of the tent out of Jack’s view. “Do you like it?” Daniel’s head popped out from the backside of the tent. “It’s brand new.” 

The pride in Daniel’s voice over his new tent was obvious but Jack was puzzled as to its purpose. 

“Very nice,” said Jack noncommittally. “Why did you buy a tent?”

“To go camping,” Daniel said as if it should be obvious. 

“In your backyard?” Jack asked.

“Yes, that’s a little bit of a problem but I needed someplace safe.”

“Someplace safe? Daniel, we camp all the time, you know, in some very unsafe places and you never seemed to have a problem with it before. Why would you want to go camping in the safety of your backyard?” 

Daniel wasn’t paying any attention to him. He was pulling on the flaps of the tent opening them up to let air in. He wiped his hands on his pants, a look of obvious satisfaction on his face. Funny, Jack thought, he never looked that way when they were off world and Daniel had to help set up the tent, but today he was practically beaming. He smiled absently at Jack and muttered, “I wonder what I did with the cot?” before he walked through the patio doors and back into the house. 

Jack rubbed a hand over his face letting out a little sigh. He tried to remember if anything unusual had turned up in Daniel’s last physical--like insanity. Jack was always loathe to use such terms when thinking or talking about Daniel, especially since it was entirely too easy to think that Daniel was crazy, even when he wasn’t under the influence of some alien bug, or virus, or whatever, but this behavior was strange even for Daniel. Daniel was supposed to be ready for a ballgame. He was supposed to be waiting at the door, baseball cap in hand, not wandering around in his oldest clothes setting up a tent in his own backyard.

Following Daniel slowly into the house, Jack noticed that the place was in disarray. On the couch he saw flashlights, pillows, blankets, insect repellent, and assorted other camping supplies. On the kitchen table there was an old cooler and a wicker picnic basket. From what Jack could see, the cooler was filled with a half a dozen cans of pop, a container of chip dip, and some sliced watermelon. The basket itself had a rather startling selection of junk food up to and including potato chips, licorice, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. Jack knew of Daniel’s sweet tooth. It was legendary. So much so that the rest of the team made it a point to pack chocolate (along with lots of coffee) as part of their regular supplies because that was about the only thing that would get Daniel to stop when he was engrossed in dusting off the walls of some grubby old tomb. But why would he be taking junk food camping with him if he was just camping in his own backyard? Wouldn’t it just be easier to come in the house and get it? Wouldn’t it be easier to just stay inside in the first place? Jack was getting a headache.

As for Daniel, he was standing on a small ladder throwing various items off the top shelf of his front hall closet without any apparent concern for their safety or well being--without any apparent concern for Jack’s safety or well being either, Jack realized as he jumped out of the way of a flying badminton racket. Moving down the hall a little to a place of relative safety, in others words a place out of the direct path of flying objects, Jack watched as the pile of stuff on the front hall floor grew. Among the odd conglomeration of junk, Jack saw another badminton racket, a net, an old plastic flower pot that should probably be in the garbage, a box of winter hats and scarves, a string of tangled Christmas tree lights, and last but not least to Jack’s mind, a baseball glove. 

Since the barrage seemed to have stopped, at least for the moment, Jack picked up the glove from the floor and walked over to Daniel whose head was still stuck in the back of the closet. “Daniel, how long have you had this glove?”

“What?” Daniel looked over his shoulder, obviously surprised that Jack was still there. “Oh, that. I’ve had that since I was in college. We took our gloves with us when we went on a dig. They don’t take up much space in your suitcase and it’s a good way to pass the time when you’re not working.” He stuck his head back into the closet while Jack watched him move a couple of more boxes and old lamp. 

For curiosity’s sake Jack put the glove on. It was old but the leather was still supple. The lacing was tight and the glove was well oiled. Obviously the glove had been well cared for. Not that Jack could imagine anything else from Daniel. 

He watched a couple of minutes longer as Daniel continued to rummage through the closet searching for something. Unable to resist any more Jack finally asked, “Daniel, what the hell are you looking for?” He thumped his fist in the glove for added emphasis.

“Ah ha! I knew it was in here somewhere.” There was a long loud clunking noise that made Jack wonder if the rest of the contents of the closet were about to fall on his head and then he saw an old folding camp cot stuck in his face.

“Grab that would you, Jack?” While Jack wrestled with the unwieldy cot, Daniel jumped to the floor and sneezed.

“Allergies?” Jack asked. 

“Dust,” Daniel answered taking the cot from Jack’s hands. “I don’t think I’ve cleaned out that closet since I moved into the house.” He looked briefly at the mess on the floor and Jack could see him trying to decide if now was the time to try to fit all it back on the closet shelf. Obviously deciding against it for the moment, Daniel went into the living room and put the cot down on the floor beside the pillows and blankets. He stood with his hands on his hips and a huge grin on his face. Turning back to Jack he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you but I didn’t have very long to get all this together. Can I get you a beer?” He walked back to the kitchen. 

“Actually, I want you to get your jacket and get into the truck.”

“What for?” he asked about to pass Jack a cold beer from the fridge. As he turned he saw Jack pull the baseball tickets from his pocket. 

“Shit! Jack, I’m so sorry. I forgot that we had tickets for tonight.”

Glancing at this watch, Jack was about to tell him not to worry about it, that if they left now they’d only miss the first inning, when they heard the honking of a car horn. Smiling apologetically, Daniel raced to the door to open it just before a little whirlwind came through. 

“Daniel!” Cassie screamed running through the door and throwing her arms around her adopted uncle, “I got one. Look! It’s my very own sleeping bag.” She unwrapped herself from around Daniel’s neck and turned to grab her new sleeping bag from the front porch. “It’s purple. Mom let me pick it out all by myself.” She started to unroll the sleeping bag so that Daniel could see it, keeping up a steady stream of dialogue that prevented Daniel from even saying hello. “It’s got a pink lining and it’s flannel. Mom says that’s good because it’s warm and I won’t get cold sleeping outside.” The grin on the little girl’s face threatened to split her face in half. 

“Very nice, Cassie,” Daniel said grinning back. “I’m sure you’ll be warm enough and I’ve got extra blankets if you think you’ll need them.” He pointed to the pile on the couch.

Cassie now saw that there was someone else in the house. With the same enthusiasm she’d greeted Daniel, she now bounded into Jack’s arms. “Jack, I didn’t know you’d be here. Do you like my new sleeping bag?” 

Finally, Jack understood what was going on. Daniel was taking Cassie camping in the backyard. And he’d certainly gone to a lot of trouble to get all of it ready for her. But why tonight when they had plans? He gave Daniel a puzzled look before he put Cassie back on the ground.

“Sleeping bag’s great, Cass. You’ll be toasty warm in that,” he said smiling down at the little girl.

“Are you going to stay and go camping? Daniel says I can stay in the tent all by myself if I want. He’s going to camp in the living room so that if I need him all I have to do is open the door.” 

Daniel stepped past Jack and opened the patio door for Cassie. She saw her tent for the first time. With another scream she was out the door and running across the yard. She stopped before unzipping the tent flap, looking back at Daniel expectantly. 

“Go ahead,” Daniel said with a nod, “open it up and see where you want to put the cot and then we’ll grab the cooler and the food.”

“Did you get marshmallows?’ Cassie asked seriously.

“A whole bag of them,” Daniel answered. He grabbed the bag of marshmallows from the basket and threw them to Cassie. “We’ll toast them once it gets dark.”

“Can I have some now?” 

“Sure,” Daniel said, “just don’t eat all of them before we get a fire going.”

Cassie smiled again and unzipped the tent to go inside while Daniel and Jack watched from the living room. Once Cassie had zipped up the tent again, Daniel turned back to Jack.

“Jack, I’m so sorry,” he said, his face showing his obvious distress. “Janet said that Cassie wanted to go camping and she couldn’t take her with her schedule at work. She’s been spending so much time at the mountain, and...well...I wanted to let Cassie do this--.”

Jack cut him off, “And that’s why you bought the tent.”

“Yeah.” Daniel gave Jack a pleading look, unable to tell whether Jack was mad at him or not. “You can still make it to the game, Jack. Maybe Sam would want to go--or Teal’c.” He started to reach for the phone. “Do you want me to give one of them a call?”

Jack reached out a hand to cover the phone. “Daniel, relax, it’s okay. We’ll catch another game.”

“But Jack, it’s the Rockies and the Cubs. You’ve been planning this for weeks.”

“They’ll be other games, Daniel. I think Cassie’s more important than a baseball game, even this baseball game.”

Daniel smiled in relief. “Thanks, Jack.”

“But next time you’re buying the tickets.”

“Got it.”

“And paying for parking.”

“Fine.”

“And getting the hotdogs.”

“No problem.”

“And the—.”

“Jack?”

“Daniel?”

“Don’t push your luck.” 

Jack stood grinning at Daniel until embarrassment forced him to look away. Instead he focused on Daniel’s glove which was still on his left hand.

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve had this all the time and you never let on?” He saw Daniel blush and look at Jack sheepishly. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew something about baseball.”

“Well, you were having such fun teaching me, I didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

“You’ve played baseball?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Oh, yeah. Not anything organized, just for fun. We taught the workers how to play when we were at the dig site--and some of the local kids. I can play most positions although I’m not a very good pitcher. I’m a decent outfielder but shortstop’s the position I like to play when I get the chance.”

“Do you hit right-handed or left-handed?”

“Actually, I’m a switch hitter.”

Jack was becoming more amazed by the second. Not only did Daniel _know_ something about the game of baseball, he knew how to _play_ baseball. What happened to the geeky archeologist who didn’t even know that Colorado had a hockey team? Maybe it was because there was no ice in Egypt.

“So all this time we’ve been going to baseball games, you already knew all the stuff I was telling you and you just let me go on and on--.”

“No, Jack, honestly. A lot of the things you taught me I didn’t know. You really don’t need to know what a pass ball is if you're playing a game where you use camel dung to mark the bases.”

“Camel dung?”

“Well, it does guarantee that you don’t slide into the bases head first,” Daniel said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Daniel, that’s gross. And you knew how to keep a score card?” Jack said still a little offended that Daniel had led him on.

“No, Jack. You taught me that. I’d never seen a score card before we went to a game.”

“You picked it up pretty quickly,” Jack said accusingly .

“Jack, I’m a linguist,” said the voice of reason. “It’s just another form of hieroglyphs.” 

“I suppose,” Jack said.

“Well, anyway, I did learn something and I figured you let me go on and on all the time when we’re in meetings and on missions so I...uh...wanted to return the favor.”

“Return the favor?” Jack asked giving Daniel a scathing look.

“Sure,” Daniel said his lips twitching in an effort to keep a straight face. “Do you think you’re the only one who can sleep with his eyes open?”

“I don’t sleep through your presentations.”

“Do to.”

“Do not.”

“Do to.”

“Are you saying that my baseball lessons are boring?” Jack asked trying to place the blame back on Daniel where it belonged.

“Are you saying that my PowerPoint presentations are boring?” Daniel asked knowing that Jack would never confess to sleeping through mission briefings.

They stood in the living room trying to stare one another down until Jack took off Daniel’s glove and threw it at him. “Come on. I’ve got to revise Plan C. Let me get my glove and what used to be your glove from the truck. We’ll give one to Cassie and see if we can teach her how to play catch and then we’ll teach her how to be a Cubs fan.” Jack was walking quickly in the direction of the front door.

“Oh, no!” Daniel said right behind him. “She lives in Colorado. She’s got to be a Rockies fan.”

“Cassie,” Jack yelled over his shoulder as he raced Daniel to the truck, “make sure you save me a couple of those marshmallows.”

“Plan C, Jack?”

“Never mind, Daniel.”


End file.
